The Horrifying Game of the Sacred Dodgeball
by Suddenlyordinary
Summary: "Let's play dodgeball, he said. It'll be fun he said." Clint is about to fight for his life in the game we all loved-I mean dreaded-to play: Sacred Dodgeball, sponsored by Stark Industries. When Clint makes a mistake, he realizes he might not make it out alive. It's not your grade-school version of dodgeball anymore. Instead it's got a "Sacred" tacked onto it. Mild violence.
1. Chapter 1

**AN/ This is kinda short AND my first story on Fanfiction. It's based on a really funny prompt I saw, so I hope you enjoy. Without further ado, let's get on with Tony's sarcasm and Nat's murderous tendencies. Takes place after Age of Ultron with NO spoilers, I promise. If there is, let me know. And if you're right, chew me out.**

 **-Dapper**

 **(Yes. That girl who is crazy in a neat orderly fashion)**

The moment Tony Stark nailed Clint in the face with a dodgeball, he did not see his impending doom approaching at record speed.

The billionaire just walked into the room, slamming the ball into Clint's face. Once Bruce actually got Clint's nose to stop bleeding (which took about 45 minutes), Tony finally explained, surprise, he was holding a dodgeball match.

"The rule are simple...ish." He explained, the whole team (minus Thor and Bruce, who politely declined) now gathered in the living room of Stark Tower. "Throw the ball, nail a guy, earn a point, shoot them all down."

"Who's leading the teams?" Sam asked, earning a glare from Tony.

"I'm getting there, Birdie. I was getting there until you barged in. So, continuing on. Catch a ball, choose a member that's already hit to come back in. Everything else is basicly the dodgeball you grew up playing in your grade school gym."

"So, why is a Sacred tacked onto the beginning?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, so it sounds actually awesome." Tony replied matter-of-factly. "So, the teams. We'll have Team A and Team B. but who to be the captains~?"

Clint tried getting out of it. He'd play, yeah, but not as a captain.

"How about…" Tony decided, mocking thoughtfulness. "The two people I managed to nail with a ball."

Natasha cleared her throat. "You did not "nail" you just threw the ball at me and I blocked it. Let's not get carried away."

"I nailed Clint."

All eyes turned on Barton.

"...yeah…"

"So, Spider Woman and Legolas are team captains. She gets Team A, he gets Team B. Let's pick teams now." Tony said, ducking away.

 _Stay cool, Clint. Just stay away from Nat._ "I'll take Cap." Clint yelled, as Steve looked up and walked over to Clint.

"I guess I'll get Maria." Natasha said, giving Agent Hill a smirk as she walked over to Nat.

"Wanda, you're with me."

"Rhodes."

"Sam, over here." Sam high-fived Clint on his way there.

"Vision."

"Sharon, bring your skills here."

Clint and Natasha were silent. Tony, the only one left, sat patiently. The two captains looked at each other. After a while, Natasha sighed.

"I guess… Tony, c'mon."

"Yay!"

The Avengers stood outside, away from the City. After all, Agent Hill and Agent Carter were there to keep everyone from killing each other. Dodgeballs lined a center area of the court. Pepper sat on the sidelines. Tony asked her to join, which resulted in a quick "NO" but then later on an offer to referee.

Both the teams were lined up, ready to play. Oh, but Sacred Dodgeball is not something you just "play".

"Alright!" Pepper yelled. "Game starts in…"

3

2

1.

 _We're all gonna die._ Clint sighed.

"GO!"

Clint and Steve ran for the center, kicking balls to their side. Sam, Sharon, and Wanda grabbed the balls. Suddenly, it was all quiet. The teams stood still, arms raised, balls aimed.

Suddenly, Tony screamed "FOR NARNIA!" and threw the first ball. Wanda narrowly missed, beginning the war. Clint made it his priority to ignore Nat and go for the others. Steve, however, was a powerhouse, grabbing the ball that almost hit Wanda and returning it quite forcefully to Tony. The billionaire was going to have a bruise on his arm in the morning.

"Capsicle!" Tony whimpered, walking over to the sidelines and throwing himself down. Steve just smiled and shrugged. After a while, or rather, three and a half hours, on Team A Natasha and Maria were left. On Team B, Clint and Sam were left. It was more of hit and miss. No one tried catching balls anymore, so the rest of the team sat, cheering and yelling attack plans to the ones left.

With one well-aimed throw, Maria knocked Sam out of the game. Almost literally, actually. While Maria took a minute to celebrate, Clint made a ball contact with her leg. She uttered a few curses, glaring at Clint, and walked to the sidelines.

Automatically, Clint realized his mistake.

Only Natasha and him were left. They stood, staring at each other for a minute. Everyone was silent. Then, Natasha launched her ball at Clint's chest. Clint dodged, aiming for her leg, to no avail. This went on for another two hours.

Eventually, Clint threw a ball, aiming at her shoulder. She dodged, but not quick enough. Clint let out a girlish squeal (which Tony never let him forget) and watched as the ball nailed the Black Widow in the head.

She laid on the ground for about thirty seconds before jerking her head up. She started running towards him, screaming bloody murder. It took Steve, Maria, and Wanda to hold her back. Clint had never heard her curse in that many languages.

They rode in different cars the way back.

Hours and hours later, Vision finally found Clint hiding in the rafters. He had been laying in the same fetal position for hours.

"Clint, why don't you come down? Nat's calmed down and is willing to forgive you." Wanda said, who was currently being lifted up into the rafters by Tony. He set her down in them, and she sat down next to him.

"Come play dodgeball, he said. It'll be fun, he said." Clint murmured.

"Barton, come on, let's get down and find Natasha."

Clint furiously shook his head.

"C'mon, she's really sorry."

"No she isn't!" Clint said, sitting up. "She's just waiting!"

It took until the next day to get him out.

And yes.

She was waiting.

So, Clint never played Sacred Dodgeball again. Because, if he had learned anything, it wasn't crap about apologies or friends, it was to never play dodgeball with Tony Stark, the Avengers, or especially Natasha Romanoff.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! It's Dapper again, making this story a two-shot! A friend of mine *cough cough* Karbear10 *cough cough* requested me making this a two-shot so I hope this makes you guys and her happy. I would like to add in I have an obsession with trying to make characters have the same personality as they do in their original media. I wrote the rough draft for this in like, less than 20 minutes and spent hours rewatching the Avengers movie and reading comics getting this perfect. So, without further ado, let's get this done!**

 **-Dapper**

There were many ways that Natasha Romanoff liked getting back at people. Number one was killing them. But seeing as killing fellow agents in SHIELD was frowned upon, murder was out of the question. A lesson taught with pain was not the answer either, she didn't want to show up on the radar. But one of Nat's favorite strategies was up for grabs: Beating someone at their own game.

Or rather, their own game of dodgeball.

Was it stupid? Absolutely. Of all the ways to beat someone at their own game (Which usually involved death), this was the most childish of them all. After all, Nat wasn't one for playing elementary school games. Then again, elementary school for her was not your ideal kind of… fun. But when has school been fun? Barely.

So, hours later, when they had finally gotten Clint out rafters, what happened? She nailed him in the face with a dodgeball. Stark did seem to rub off on her after all.

"Seriously? For the second time today?!" He cried, looking up at her.

"Your problem?"

"You throw like a-"

Nat picked up the dodgeball, tossing it back to forth from both her palms.

"Better than Tony! Way harder, did I mention how hard my face hurts?" He stuttered, earning an offended "Hey!" From Tony.

"That's just the thing to make my day." She said. "But I think it might just get better."

"Uh, yeah, um, sure! Absolutely, great day." Clint replied, standing up awkwardly.

"So, Blacky," Tony cut in, earning a glare from a Nat. "Why did you so expertly nail Clint in the face with a dodgeball?"

"Blacky is like a name for a horse." Nat said, the dodgeball being tossed again.

"Really? I never thought of that." Tony said casually.

"Probably because it would suit you better." She said, unaffected and checking her nails.

A couple of spare "Ooo."s echoed through the room.

"Are you calling me a horse, Romanoff?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth."

"Alright." Steve cut in. "Before someone starts a Civil War, let's cut this out."

"That actually sounds kind of fun." Tony replied.

Clint sighed. "Not what Steve meant."

The room was quiet for a minute, the team looking at each other silently. After another minute or so, Sam piped up.

"So, what are we here for again?"

Nat straightened. "Yes. Right." She turned to Clint, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"I want a rematch."

"What?" Clint sputtered out.

"You heard me, rematch. We'll play Tony's stupid game with same teams." She explained, letting go of his shirt. "Last one standing wins."

"It's not stupid." Tony growled, defensive of his guilty pleasure as a child.

"Tony." Nat sighed. "It is so childish. You need to let go."

"Fine…" he mumbled. ' _Never_ ' he meant.

She threw the ball to Clint, who yelped before picking it up off the ground after he blocked. I believe he used the term "Like a Boss" to describe it.

We all know the truth.

"Happy Hunger Games, Katniss." Tony murmured.

Hours later, the game began. Since it also took another 4 hours, let's not go into detail about all that happened. Long story short, it was Clint and Natasha left.

Natasha watched him. He gripped a dodgeball in his hands, but obviously had no intention of throwing it. Scared, perhaps?

"C'mon, Clint! Fight like a man!" Wanda yelled from the sidelines.

"Easier said than done!" He yelled back.

"At least throw the ball, man!" Sam hollered.

Clint reared his arm back and threw.

It bounced across the half court line.

"Really?" Tony screamed.

Clint shrugged, backing away.

"Don't go easy on her because she's a girl!"

"Tony, she is not a girl. She is a deadly assassin who could kill you thirty-five different ways with a pair of freaking salad tongs!" Clint cried, picking up another dodgeball.

"Thirty-seven, Clint. Thirty-seven different ways with a pair of salad tongs." Nat said, crossing her arms. She had a ball in each hand.

"Are going to start throwing them at me or what?" Clint cried. "I just wanna get this over with!"

"That's what she said!" Tony yelped, earning a glare from Clint.

"You're not helping, Tony."

He narrowly dodged a dodgeball flung at him from Natasha.

"I always try to help my friends in need."

Clint dodged another attack. "Can it, Stark!"

"I'm being honest."

"Screw off, Tony!"

He hurled a dodgeball at Natasha, who expertly dodged it.

"Who throws like a girl Clint?" She called.

"Not what I was going to say!"

"Wasn't it though?" Tony yelled. He then dodged a dodgeball thrown at him, cue Clint.

"Foul!" Tony screamed. "I call a foul!"

"SHUT UP, TONY!" Everyone yelled.

This continued about forty-five minutes longer, Nat actually putting in effort to win. Clint was just dodging and weakly throwing dodgeballs back.

Finally, he walked up to the line, spreading his arms out.

"I'm done." He said. "I'm tired. I need to clean my bow. I'm hungry. I want to go home. Just hit me and finish the game.

"But that wouldn't be fun, Barton." Nat replied.

"This game is crap. These freaking foam dodgeballs are crap, this gym is crap, and this fight is crap. Let's just forget this and go back to saving the world or whatever.

The team was silent. Clint closed his eyes, preparing for the impact of the dodgeball.

But nothing happened.

He opened his eyes to see Natasha lowering her arm, dodgeball and all. She smiled at him.

"Okay, Clint."

He smiled back, lowering his arms. Meanwhile almost the whole team booed. Natasha stretched out her arms, offering a hug.

Clint's mind screamed _This is absolutely a trap_ but yet a hug from Natasha Romanoff was a nearly nonexistent thing, so turning it down would be like turning down an adorable, fluffy puppy.

An adorable, fluffy puppy with hand guns.

He walked forwards, ready for the trap to spring.

Sure enough, he was hit in the face with a dodgeball.

She leaned down, glaring at him.

"Third time today. Ready for a round three game?"

"N-No thanks!"

"Wise choice."

Poor Clint's day just kept getting worse and worse.


End file.
